Chapter 9

Disclaimer: So sorry for not uploading. I finished writing it in May and thought I had already posted. Whoopsie me…

When I awoke, it was dark and I gasped in horror at the bruises I had on my thighs from Cameron's hungry clawing. I tried to piece together what had happened the night before but couldn't bring myself to it. What if Cameron had succeeded? It was so close-if Charlie hadn't come when he did- I took a deep breath and shuddered. I wouldn't allow myself to think about it. I glanced around the room and noticed Charlie lying next to me, arms outstretched, mouth open, hair flopped over his eyes. He began to snore softly. I giggled under my breath. Charlie Dalton snoring. Wait until I tell the others.

Classes went on as usual, although every time I saw Cameron watching me I got an unpleasant prickly feeling at the back of my neck. He didn't try anything, not after Charlie threatened him but we couldn't go to anyone about this. Not Mr. Nolan, Dr. Hager, not even Mr. Keating because we knew the minute we said what happened, Cameron would counter by mentioning Charlie's death threat. And who was going to believe Charlie's word over Cameron's? So it stayed like this for several months, awkwardness clogging my veins and a deep fear settling in the back of my mind like an imminent rain cloud. Dark and darker were the only shades of color is aw for the longest time. Nightmares woke me in a cold sweat, my whole body trembling in fright that it would happen, that it had happened. The only person who knew was Charlie and he was the only person there for me, regardless of circumstances or the time of day. He'd wake me up from my nightmares and rock me back to sleep, murmuring poems and quietly singing songs. I always did love his voice. I almost felt embarrassed showing this side of me to him but I couldn't help it. I had to vent my thoughts and feeling to somebody and surprisingly, Charlie listened.

On Friday nights after Dead Poets meetings, we'd bask in each other's words, exchanging more poems we had written, poems that calmed us or made us laugh. Ones that made us cry too. When we ran out of poems to share, we began to share stories. The stories of our lives. Bluntly and without shame. I feared he'd retort with a smirk and a snide remark but he never did. After the things he told me, I began to understand him not only as a human but as a blossoming man too. A beautiful one who was just trying to find his place in the world. I supposed we all were, really. one night while we were exchanging thoughts and feelings, he pulled out his pipe and lit it. Instead of dismissing this as a normal phenomenon, I became transfixed by his hands softly cupping the head of the pipe and his fingers stroking the length of it. I noticed the way his brows drew together in concentration as he struck the match and nestled it firmly between the tobacco before pulling it out and extinguishing the flame from the tip. I took in the way his eyes turned darker and the way his legs shifted on his bed, slowly crossing his ankles, allowing a strip of skin to peek through his socks. Did I dare to call him…attractive?

That kiss in the cave on that snowy night had been suppressed in me, slowly wetting my appetite for him and causing my insides to roar his name in pleasure even when he was not touching me. These thoughts led me to anger. And why hadn't he mentioned that night? Did he just think it was some silly rendez-vous to occupy his time before his next sleazy fling? I curled my hands into fists and without even realizing it, I grabbed my pillow and pelted it at him. Charlie dodged out of the way and tightened the line of his mouth.

"What the hell was that for?!" Charlie said angrily, furiously putting out his pipe.
"For forgetting."

"Forgetting what?"

His eyes widened as he stood up from his bed and crawled onto mine.

"For forgetting that night in December. When we snuck out and you took me to the cave. And then you kissed me. and I think that you forgot that you loved me and that I-that I love you."

Our eyes locked, breaths held, room spinning as he took my hand.

"I didn't forget that night. Never. How could I? it was the best moment I ever experienced. I didn't forget, I kept it stowed in the back of my mind to play over and over again in the dead of night as you slept softly, eyes closed and breasts slowly heaving. I wanted to touch you then-feel your hair between the crevices of my fingers and caress your skin beneath mine- I wanted to kiss you and ever so slowly rid you of any coherent thought left inside you pretty brain because I love you and I want to pleasure you, always have, always will. But when Cameron tried to rape you and almost went through with it," his eyes were outlined in shining unshed tears, "I thought I would lose you. Forever."